


mamihlapinatapai

by Unicat121



Series: the world reminds us [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Drinking, F/M, First Kiss, First Meetings, Fluff, Just good times with the lads, M/M, Might become a series, Swearing, Taverns, and the inquisitor is with the iron bull, fuck tagging how do you do it, idk yet, let krem say fuck, reader is the inquisitor’s sister, this might be part of a series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-15 04:41:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28557765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unicat121/pseuds/Unicat121
Summary: (n.) a look shared by two people, each wishing that the other would initiate something they both desire but which neither wants to begin.(Or, Krem joins the inquisition because the chief wants them to, but he didn’t bargain on meeting and falling for the inquisitor’s little sister.)
Relationships: Cremisius "Krem" Aclassi/Reader, The Iron Bull/Male Lavellan (Dragon Age)
Series: the world reminds us [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2129556
Kudos: 9





	mamihlapinatapai

_She was like fire._

The first time Krem saw her, he was reminded of dancing flames which threw sparks into the air and chased the chill from his bones on cold, midnight patrols. He was reminded of home and the Chargers, of dragons and the war, but most of all, he was reminded of fire.

She looked a lot like her brother, and the proof that they were related was in the twin slim builds, the pale skin and the pointed ears of the Dalish. Even their hair was a similar red. But the difference was in their eyes. While the inquisitor had eyes which Bull soppily described as emeralds, hers were such an interesting hue that Krem could never figure out what colour they were.

Of course, it wasn’t like he had much time to look.

She was an archer, and whenever he was in a group with her to run a routine patrol or clear out a mine or fortress, she wore a mask over the bottom half of her face, and a hood concealing the top. He didn’t complain, though. She was an excellent shot.

Krem had watched her efficiently pick off a group of about ten trained mercenaries as they snuck through a camp to try and find her. It was the first and only time he had seen her shoot without a hood, and it had been breathtaking.

Her eyes were keen, her face like the rest of her body; unmoving, except when reloading. But that was a motion so fluid it was over almost as soon as it had begun. She didn’t so much as twitch when an arrow flew past dangerously close to where they were hiding. Later, she had explained that, too:

_”If you move, they’re going to see you. Would you jump just because the blind man’s shots got too close?”_

She came to the tavern a fair bit. Mostly, she came because she wanted to talk to Dalish about elven things, like festivals they were missing or cultural details they wanted to dispute. Krem had realised quickly that her brother was probably too busy to talk with her about such things.

When she did bring the Inquisitor, however, she talked with all of the Chargers, and learned the words to their song so she could join in. Her voice added a pleasant overtone to the rowdy tune, and didn’t feel out of place at all. Bull took a shine to her, of course he did, but Krem knew he was probably doing it half to get into the better books of the elf he was so obviously smitten with.

She didn’t talk with him much one-on-one, but when they did chat, it always felt so right. It was infuriating, in a way, that Krem was so ridiculously far gone that his heart committed a crime of a cliche when she laughed, but what could he do. She was beautiful. Beautiful, deadly, angry, kind, compassionate, ruinous and brilliant. And always, she reminded Krem of fire.

| | | | |

The ease of their tentative friendship was never going to last.

After a particularly nasty fight with some rogue mages, the inquisitor was badly wounded. He had been carried into a healer’s tent on a stretcher, and nothing but pained gasps and pants had been heard since. Krem was worried. She hadn’t returned, and some members of her group had already made it back to camp.

He was debating whether or not he should call a search party when she appeared over the crop of rocks at the top of the hill. She all but sprinted down the slope, falling twice but scrambling to her feet almost immediately. Bull had stepped forward to deliver the news.

Krem’s friend has been heavy-hearted, but the burden of having to tell the inquisitor’s sister must have only added to that weight. She approached them with light steps, cautious due to the lack of greeting from either of them.

_”Where’s Hanael?”_

When Bull didn’t answer, she had started to panic, her mind obviously switching to the worst possible scenario it could.

_”Where’s my brother, Bull? Where is he? He’s not... Bull, tell me he’s not!”_

When Bull had explained the situation, she had paled to such an extent that Krem was worried she was going to collapse. She nearly did. She put an arm out and grasped his forearm to steady herself, then had bent over and vomited into the sand. It was all Krem could do to keep her steady as she emptied her guts and eyes out onto the floor.

When she apparently had nothing left to throw up, she slumped into him, weeping and shaking like a dead branch in the wind. It was wrong. She didn’t cry, didn’t weep. She was fire. She was atrong, flickering in the face of adversity but never going out. But what Krem held in his arms was testament to a different story.

She was only embers, so low that the heat she normally gave him was being sucked away, as if to keep her alive for a little longer. When she had stopped crying, she stood up and stepped away. Immediately, Krem missed her. She wiped the remaining tears from her face and locked eyes with him. She walked away.

Krem shared a look with Bull. It was strange, seeing her so vulnerable. It had felt wrong and almost _criminal_ to see someone so strong without any of her usual walls. Something in the air had grown heavier, and the weight soon grew too much for Krem’s lungs. He left as well.

| | | | |

She had sought him out after they returned to Skyhold. He hasn’t wished it, but he knew that they would have to address what has happened while they were away. The dance they were partaking in would not work forever, and they needed a failsafe when that inevitably happened.

She had sought him out, but she did not speak. They simply shared looks from across the noisy tavern when any of their companions was being particularly stupid. Of course, that only lasted so long.

Two days after Krem and the Chargers returned from a month long mission - they were sent to kill some people who worshipped some demon who had a name which was too long and with too many letters to pronounce - they were drinking in the tavern with the Iron Bull.

For once, Krem was not haunted by the image of her face, but the moment of bliss didn’t last long.

She pushed open the door with force, startling some nearby soldiers but ignoring their grunts at her. She scanned the room, eyes inevitably landing on Krem before she strode towards him.

She nodded once at Bull, and Krem barely had time to put his drink down before she was gripping his hand and leading him out of the tavern and through Skyhold.

They ended up in a passageway which lead to nowhere and was well-hidden by boxes and twists and shadows. She looked at him, studied him for a long moment, before she asked:

_”Do you love me?”_

Krem had choked on air. Did he love her? _Did he love her?_ He thought that she was all the stars in the sky, and then some. She was the pleasant heat of the sun beating down on his back when he trained with Bull on the courtyard, and she was the biting wind which cursed sleep from him when he was forced to lay outside.

But he didn’t know how to tell her that. Instead, he settled for,

_”Yes.”_

She sighed again, her hands falling from her hips to her sides, she hung her head, and Krem was close to walking away before the oncoming storm hit. He was glad he didn’t.

She surged forward, grasping his face with tender hands uncovered by gloves.

_”You, Cremisius Aclassi, are an absolute fucking idiot.”_

And then she kissed him.

| | | | |

She had always reminded Krem of fire. Her kisses were no different. She demanded, her lips an insistent press against his as she pulled him against her. She was forceful, but the warmth blooming within Krem’s chest was testament to how much he was enjoying finally having her.

_”Wait. You need to know I-“_

_”I know. Binder. It’s fine. Don’t care. Come back.”_

She reminded Krem of fire.

Krem reminded her of the mountains.


End file.
